Why Chara Chose Genocide
by Memento Mori - The Truth
Summary: This is your fault, Toriel.


Dear reader,

Greetings. If you are reading this, then you have discovered my secret little letter to myself. It is something akin to a diary or a journal, but only consisting of a single entry.

My name is Charisma Pharalisk. I recognize that the name sounds odd, but please do not may it any mind. I am the sixth child in a family that has been following a strict set of rules fit for a noble. The Victorian Era is long over, and it is currently the nineteenth century. Yet, my family seems to refuse to follow the times, and instead works as though they are still nobles. The man I once called "father" also happened to be impossibly incompetent when it comes to naming his children. My brothers Strength and Constitution, along with my sisters Dexterity, Wisdom, and Intelligence can testify. I do not know where he got his naming sense, but in any case, those are our names.

Pharalisk wasn't even an English last name. I do not know its origins, as it doesn't seem to be of any sort of Asian or European origin. All I know about the name is that it is stupid, which you probably agree with, dear reader.

Of course, I hated my family. Do not misunderstand my words; I loved Wisdom, Constitution, and the rest of my siblings. However, the way that the family worked, along with what was expected of us… it was stupid. We were taught to fight with weapons at a young age, too. Imagine that: a child born in the nineteenth century, and on your fourth birthday your father tells you to choose from a rapier, a sabre, or an epee. My siblings managed to convince my father that using such a large weapon would cause my upper body muscles to develop unevenly and prove detrimental to my growth, so instead I was told to practice with a dagger instead. I am still a small child, but you probably noticed that my vocabulary is rather developed for that to be the case. That is also due to the expectations forced upon me by my parents.

Thus, I ran away from home.

After travelling the land and attempting to find a new home, I found myself on a mountain of some sort, and exhausted. I fell down a hole and broke my leg, but a goat…dragon… kid… thing brought me to his home and had his mother cast healing magic on me.

That was still not the oddest thing to happen to me in my life.

In any case, these people seemed much kinder and much happier than my old family. Thus, I longed to join them. They happily accepted my desire, and I became a Dreemurr, but that was a mistake. That would prove to be my undoing, for now I have spiraled down an uncontrollable twisted path. Sure, the Dreemurr family was nice. All three of them were kind to me. However, dark secrets lay beneath their fluffy, furry, and soft exterior, and I do not mean their ability to conjure magical attacks.

When they first asked me for my name, an odd box appeared in front of my face, and it had buttons with letters on it. This seemed odd, but I typed in my name. It did not work, however, as the box then informed me that I could only enter up to six characters maximum for my name. What kind of bullshit was that? I heard of hardware limitations, but that was only for videogames and the like, wasn't it? Why did this magical floating box have the same problems? Yet, the Dreemurrs were staring at me with wide eyes filled with expectation. I had to put in my name, however shortened it would be. I at first thought about putting the first six letters of my name, but Charis seemed a bit too... I don't know… pretentious for my tastes, especially after my last family. The last six letters were no better. Arisma sounded sickly. As such, I decided to compromise, and take the first four letters and the final letter of my name.

Thus, I became known as Chara.

Immediately the box disappeared, and the goat monsters welcomed me to the family. A ding rang out, which I found innocent at the time, almost instantly after. I would come to dread that noise soon enough, along with the lines spoken by the mother of the family, my new mother: "I just baked a pie. Would you like some, Chara?"

When she said that, a box, similar but smaller when compared to before, opened up in front of me. It had two buttons labelled "Yes" and "No" respectively written on them. Much to my current dismay, I had pressed "Yes" at the time. That appears to have set the answer to "yes" as a default permanently since then, leaving me no way to say "no" from then on, as I have never seen the box again.

Much time has passed since then. I, who was a shy child at the time, didn't talk at all until several months later when I finally noticed what kind of demonic torture chamber that I was locked in with these lovely fiends. Today marks the one hundred and sixteenth day since I started living with Toriel, Asgore, and Asriel Dreemurr. Many things happened since then… and now…

I believe that I may be going mad.

Why?

Pies.

Unfortunate to say, I have not had a decent meal in months. Every day I attempt to beg mother for nutrition, but no text boxes appear when I wish to talk. I fear that she will never understand me. She does not even ask me if I wish to eat pie anymore, but rather she just brings a slice or two to my shared room with Asriel whenever she bakes one, and she bakes pies all the thrice damned time. I attempted to request Asgore and Asriel for help, but they give me snails and tea instead. There are other people in the area, but they were no help either. There is a skeleton boy who randomly pops in every now and then who seems to understand me better than anyone else, but when I wish for food he just hands me a bottle of ketchup and disappears. The royal scientist is more interested in studying me than trying to figure out what I require. In the first place I am not allowed to leave the castle, but I cannot get to the surface because I would need a monster soul on top of my human soul in order to do so.

I can't take it anymore.

Tonight I shall dine upon the flowers in the yard. I have tricked Asriel into believing that he will be going to the surface in order to gather six more souls and get everyone out. That is all bullshit. Tomorrow, we shall pass through the gate and I will slaughter the first town I see. Then I shall devour all of their meals and relish in the non-pie flavor.

My dear reader, if you have heard of a teenage magical godly goat monster terrorizing the land, destroying pies everywhere, and demanding the consumption of all your foodstuffs, then that is me. I would apologize for any trouble that I may have caused to you, but then I would be lying. I am certain that I would not regret my actions, for there are glorious tastes to experience in the outside world. There are also several pie recipes to burn. You may not understand my toils and trials, nor do you understand my reasoning behind my actions. That is a good thing, dear reader. I hope that you will never feel the torture that is butterscotch pie.

Signed,

Charisma "Chara Dreemurr" Finnigan

P.S. I have enclosed documents along with this letter that explain several circumstances that lead to my downfall. They entail my hardships in the hell known as the Underground.


End file.
